Monday, April 20, 2009

By Brother BikoTwo most beautiful women in the worldMy one and only ekua and the restTwo most beautiful women ever madeMy lovely ekua is the very bestEkua never passed thru varsityBut she holds an enviable love degreeEkua is bright smart conscious courteousShe care less about church yet she’s righteous

Ekua is neither rude nor arrogantShe’s responsible not extravagantEkua is sweet sweeter than berriesShe’s mindful of her thank yous and sorrysEkua knows why she has ears and a mouthShe don’t let me say enough is enoughI don’t have a cause to fear or doubt herWe belong to each other she’s aware

Ekua is her own standard of beautyShe don’t covet an European identityA beauty in the truest sense of the wordNot the type to let a man lose his headEkua never wears perm wig lipstickShe don’t respond to pig tags like bitch chickEkua knows her rights and also her limitsNo matter what we shall not call it quits

For ekua my heart always sings a songA d ay without her is like a year longBetter to spend time away from my lifeThan spend days away from my future wifeWhenever she’s talking I am all earsHer voice kills my pains and towels my tearsI am not complete without my ekuaI need her today next and forever

By Nii LanteyIn the name of art historyBy way of poetryI speak of a manI tell of his worksHis works that stand conspicuousIn the swathe of the ruinsOf his detractors’ subversive activitiesI speak of man who gave birth to a nationI speak of a man who lived and died for his peopleI speak of a man loved and hated by his own peopleI speak of a 20th century political ChristAccused, Abused and RefusedI speak of a man vilified and demonisedCastigated by his generationToday I speak of a manVindicated, celebrated And almost deifiedA man who started a fireThat burnt down towers of powers of oppressionOperating in Isms and Schisms Colonialism and imperialism Powers that raped and robbed my people in AfricaI speak of this manI speak of his worksI speak of the father of my country GhanaI speak of Osagyefo Dr Kwame NkrumahThe black Star of AfricaNkrumah show boyThe Giant killer The light bearerThe answer to the question The wind of black Africa liberationThe bear chest of the new AfricaThe crown of the black prideTake it or leave it The army prophet general of the struggleTake it or leave itThe tallest of the standing tallThe warrior for the soldiers I speak of a man who brook no dread and dared to stand against the systemKicked out the crazy baldheadsAnd trampled down BabylonHome and abroadI speak of a man who brought the sum dowm on the John Bull’s empireI speak of a man who never diesI speak of the man whose voice is still talking revolutionAfter 100years I speak of Osagyefo Dr Kwame NkrumahTo the galling of his detractorsHe is the one The only oneThe man of the millenniumThe greatest of allI speak of no one but himOsagyefo Dr Kwame NkrumahTwa Omanye Aba

By Brother BikoBlacks and nearly whites lets do something rightLet’s come together and fight the good fightWe cannot sit down nor spend our precious livesServing greedy slave masters and their wivesAs they loot from our national coffersAnd brand our continents super worthlessIt behoves on us to build a societyThat believes first in human equality

Blacks and nearly whites let us see the lightTry and help each other with all our mightLife is for a collective benefitNot for ones outrageous greedy profitLet’s reach into our minds and delve deeperWe can move on as each others keeperBring out the best in our collective selvesAnd be grateful to life for what she serves

Blacks and nearly whites life has one secretWhich is to fear nothing and be discreetLet’s build a world pretty much like heavenWe are capable when we look withinGood attitude to life is all we needLet not despair and hopelessness breedToo late to think of making a good beginningBut we all can make excellent ending

Blacks and nearly whites its time for a changeIf we just sit down things won’t rearrangeIt takes scores of ten thousands to be poorFor one fool to get rich and rule the lawAs long as there are billionaires on earthMillions of people shall live in pain and death Its time for us to act lets be workingAgainst the system of a queen and king

By Brother BikoIn afrika all things happenAs long as leaders say amenTo the World Bank and IMFTo rip us on masters behalfBut we can turn the tableAnd make the continent stableIf we mean to rule destinyAnd not sell our souls for money

Afrika shan’t be safe and soundWhen grave exploitation aboundWhen we sit on gold to be poorWhilst masters hide behind the lawIf we change our mentalityAnd wreck the cause of povertyRape murder robbery and crimeShall run to once upon a time

When people do not find justiceThen justice finds highest officeYou see ballots thrown far awayBullets rise to have the final saySocial insurance of one allLeaders followers great or smallIs the key to stabilityThat’s no gift from god almighty

Learning to become foreign toolsProducing their raw materialsNeglecting our common senseHolding fast to indifferenceCan only lead us to deepest hellLet’s look within and make things wellLets be our one and only hopeLife is far from opera soap

By Brother BikoChildren of civilizationNow set to abject destructionFrozen is our desire to knowLittle we think we know aren’t so Children of greatest mind makersPerishing amongst non thinkersOur minds are on serious runWe are like captives in the can

Our men energetic and strongAlmost cannot tell right from wrongOur women pretty to beholdMostly sex items to be soldWe awakened humanityBut out of goddamn naivetyWe are still down not ready to riseAnd leaders are still telling lies

Our nations are right down the drainOur youth are hooked on gun and cocaineOur leaders mostly deaf and blindSystem won’t allow them to be kindThe creator gave us a head startHow come we failed to do our partWe must research and find ourselvesAnd give system what it deserves

Christianity came by way of gunIslam by means of a swordsmanWe were the pagans they did sayFoolish were we to choose their wayLet’s find our own ways and meansWe can’t live on slave religionsFive hundred years in abject messTime to say no to oppressors

By Brother BikoBeautiful great women of afrikaYou aren’t objects for bad men to conquerBeautiful righteous women of the worldYou must be seen but most of all be heardIn unity lie your hope and powerYou mustn’t wither away like flowerDon’t let cheap chocolate vibes confuse youYou deserve the best you deserve your due

You are the most important in this lifeNature made you to be more than a wifeYou are too great to be disrespectedToo glorious to be misappreciatedYou are more than things for men to look atYou don’t deserve to serve as a doormatUnited you can do what you need to doDon’t let any pig discourage you

Let not men sing praises of your behindsAnd still treat you as very little mindsTo have emotional intelligenceDoesn’t mean you have weak rational senseTime is ripe to rise on your brain and feetAim at every parliamentarian seatIf you allow men to make all the rulesYou will be left with kitchen tools

Religions are there to oppress womenDon’t follow doctrines to sexist denThe myth of eve made you the most hatedThat of Delilah made you least trustedHoly books by men are politics of sexAll written to leave you in hell annexKnow your story and get understanding That your life did not begin in Eden

We write what has long been writtenWe speak what has long been spokenWe write a common peoples manualUnsorted natural factualWe write protest songs street anthemsWe make you aware of problemsYou need to take note of this hintNothing we write is a blueprint

We write what was in sankaraWe write the mind of GuevaraNkrumah Lumumba BikoEven mumia on deathrowWhat we write survived cold regimesThat of smith Leopold and their dreamsWe write blood against oppressionAnd all forms of exploitation

Our writings stand firm for justiceSo you should know we are for peaceJustice for our people and allJustice bold firm standing tallWhat we write is crap to the stupidBloody nonsense to the timidBlasphemy to the self righteousYet nothing stops what we write oh yes

What we write comes from heart bleeding Minds set on rapid fire blazingWhat we write expresses angerTorment anguish danger We write a straight forward inviteWhich leads to afrikan lightLight of awareness consciousnessLight to empower powerless

We write what has long been writtenWe speak what has long been spokenWe write a common peoples manualUnsorted natural factualWe write protest songs street anthemsWe make you aware of problemsYou need to take note of this hintNothing we write is a blueprint

We write what was in sankaraWe write the mind of GuevaraNkrumah Lumumba BikoEven mumia on deathrowWhat we write survived cold regimesThat of smith Leopold and their dreamsWe write blood against oppressionAnd all forms of exploitation

Our writings stand firm for justiceSo you should know we are for peaceJustice for our people and allJustice bold firm standing tallWhat we write is crap to the stupidBloody nonsense to the timidBlasphemy to the self righteousYet nothing stops what we write oh yes

What we write comes from heart bleeding Minds set on rapid fire blazingWhat we write expresses angerTorment anguish danger We write a straight forward inviteWhich leads to afrikan lightLight of awareness consciousnessLight to empower powerless

We write what has long been writtenWe speak what has long been spokenWe write a common peoples manualUnsorted natural factualWe write protest songs street anthemsWe make you aware of problemsYou need to take note of this hintNothing we write is a blueprint

We write what was in sankaraWe write the mind of GuevaraNkrumah Lumumba BikoEven mumia on deathrowWhat we write survived cold regimesThat of smith Leopold and their dreamsWe write blood against oppressionAnd all forms of exploitation

Our writings stand firm for justiceSo you should know we are for peaceJustice for our people and allJustice bold firm standing tallWhat we write is crap to the stupidBloody nonsense to the timidBlasphemy to the self righteousYet nothing stops what we write oh yes

What we write comes from heart bleeding Minds set on rapid fire blazingWhat we write expresses angerTorment anguish danger We write a straight forward inviteWhich leads to afrikan lightLight of awareness consciousnessLight to empower powerless

We write what has long been writtenWe speak what has long been spokenWe write a common peoples manualUnsorted natural factualWe write protest songs street anthemsWe make you aware of problemsYou need to take note of this hintNothing we write is a blueprint

We write what was in sankaraWe write the mind of GuevaraNkrumah Lumumba BikoEven mumia on deathrowWhat we write survived cold regimesThat of smith Leopold and their dreamsWe write blood against oppressionAnd all forms of exploitation

Our writings stand firm for justiceSo you should know we are for peaceJustice for our people and allJustice bold firm standing tallWhat we write is crap to the stupidBloody nonsense to the timidBlasphemy to the self righteousYet nothing stops what we write oh yes

By Kwakuvi Azasu!In the eventide I wearily plodThe shrub fringed path to Luhue in floodNumb and weary, wearily on, I plodThey, many creatures my feet disturbed From slumber troubled and perturbed Run frantic into the running water, to the sound “plop”The snake like the butterflies Wriggles harmless as it flies,Away into the running water, to sound “plop”On, on I walk the water brim,To wake a crocodile from his dream,-With an ugly deftness and splash! Away to swim!All creatures nimbly make wayAll creatures nimbly make way For me as they plunge with aweInto the depths of running Luhue.Suddenly! And I wonder Why a colossal hippo also thunders!Into the water with a deafening – splash!Then the thought shoot my brainShattering ignorance to establish truth:Man is greater, man is greater! Than all!

By Vivian Golo-KumahMy soul wonders in thought of lifeWhat life will I behold as a young woman? Will I be powerful and mighty as they say? Or live in my little timid way of life.Life has become nightmare of uncertainty,Yes! The past I know, the present I live in But what use have I made of the present This is all I have and know of, I think of and cherish.And steadfastly I holdThe future is my deepest fear and has caused me sleepless night.The Fear of living in perpetual guilt of failure to achieve my heart desires.The fear that haunt me like death, ghost and like a monster.Life oh life! All I ask for is fairness All I hope for is greatness, happiness and fulfillment in life.Oh life, oh, oh life so unpredictable Oh life, oh life so gracious yet unassuming.

by Vivian GolokumahThere’s a pretty woman somewhere I know,Before whose eyes greed is transformed into generosity In her mouth a tongue of soothing comfort And in her breasts sweet milk of sympathy.All she could, she gives the needy;And when she can’t she encourages trueThose in pain she pampers with pity.Her hands are magic wands of mercy,Which bitter poison alters to sweet honey,And resolves wars into painless peaceUgly Anger! Her smiles change into dainty love.She is great! That woman I know:Never frowning – always smiling She is Kindness who but a few do know.By Vivian GoloKumahDedicated to my mother

by Vivian GolokumahPoor woman, look how oppressed she isSuppressed she has been all this years.Marriage has limited her to little chances,Marriage has put her in captivity of no choice ofHer.Poor woman, she can’t speak when her husbandSpeaks, she can’t even have a decent conversationWith her husband without being beaten like a thief whoHas Stolen.Her very existence is pain, anguish, anxiety and nightmareBecause she is a woman who married to a beast as husband.Poor woman, she has no right over her sexuality, her husband ownHer like a piece of land, he decides when to plant, nature and cultivateThe land. The poor woman has to be submissive and loving unconditionallyto the husband. She is like a piece of wood before her husband shecan’t have equal love and be treated like the woman that she is.The poor woman has to produce children as a prove her womanhoodMarriage has enslaved her.All in name of womanhood.All she ever wanted as woman was happiness as a married woman.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

If you don’t know You don’t knowThe greatest puppets Have the most to gainTheir padded stomach Insulation against the plight A quivering layer of dependency and drought

If you don’t know You can’t knowAll that shouting The violent vociferous velocityOf insults and exclamations Is camouflage forBallots bought, ballots bound

If you don’t know Should you care?This belly politics Is like a disease that blindsWith religious-like zeal Swearing what is white is black And what is black is white

If you don’t know You should knowPolitics, they say politricksI say bellytricks, like insect-tics They are parasites sitting heavyBlotting out the possibilitiesOf this misnomer we all Haltingly call democracy